


Tell Me It's Madness (I Barely Know You)

by gingertintedglasses



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Fluff, Found Family Is The best Family, Implied T'Challa/Nakia, M/M, Minor Sharon Carter/Natasha Romanov, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Punk Steve Rogers, SO MUCH FLUFF, Soulmate-Identifying Timers, Soulmates, implied Pepper Potts/Tony Stark - Freeform, implied maria hill/sam wilson, minor clint barton/rebecca barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 01:00:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 18,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21588829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gingertintedglasses/pseuds/gingertintedglasses
Summary: It wasn't that having a Soulmate was rare, per se; it was that it wasn't exactly common.  Some people had Soulmates, some didn't, and even those that did, didn't always end up with their Soulmate.  Soulmates were...complicated.  Soul-bonds covered all manner of connections, but most often manifested platonically as best friends or siblings, or romantically as lovers.  No matter the type of bond, it was invariably announced in the same way: a countdown clock, and a dream that gave you a peek into one another's lives.So Bucky'd met his Soulmate.   And now, with little more than two weeks to go until they actually spoke, he had his Dream and his Clock showed up.  Typical.  He'd be home for the next two weeks.  If someone from Nowhere, Indiana, was his Soulmate, Bucky wasn't sure what he'd do.  Hope they'd be willing to relocate to New York, probably.~~Soulmate, coffee shop AU. Pre-serum punk Steve and Bucky fluff-fest. Overthinking and unhelpful (depending upon who's asking) friends and family. WILL THEY END UP TOGETHER? I mean. Yes.  But the fun is in getting there!
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 18
Kudos: 186





	1. Fascination Cast A Spell

**Author's Note:**

> Did I just use a Savage Garden song from 1 Million BC as my title? Yes. I will die on the hill of my love for late 90s pop. "Chained To You" is an absolute bop and I'm not sorry. 
> 
> Endless, perpetual thanks to my always wonderful beta @whatasaur. I would be completely lost without you and your patience and willingness to be sure my timelines aren't the stuff of Time Lords.
> 
> A massive thank you to my artist, @feisty-slytherin1027 for her incredible artwork that I've linked and am *desperately* trying to embed but I'm losing my battle with AO3 I am The Worst Millennial.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cover Art for this fic by the talented @feisty-slytherin1027 : 
> 
> https://www.deviantart.com/feisty-slytherin1027/art/Sketch043-Jpeg-821682444

**{Bucky}**

Bucky was staring at the lettering on the back of the espresso machine as he waited for his coffee. It was six in the morning and he hadn't slept as much as he'd wanted to the night before a drive to Indiana from New York City, but he was determined to be at his parents’ house before the end of the day. So here he was, at Carter's two hours earlier than usual, waiting for a coffee with enough espresso to keep him going. Ostensibly. And a puppacino for Monty, because if he got into the car _without_ a cup for him, his Westie was going to judge him the entire twelve-hour drive. No thanks.   
  
Deep, rich humming pulled him from his thoughts. He wasn't sure where it was coming from, but it was melodic and complemented Norah Jones singing "The Nearness Of You". Bucky shifted forward to grab a straw for his drink and subtly placed himself in line to see behind the machine.  
  
There was a man there, probably close to Bucky's age, slender and short and handsome. His hair was blonde and cropped close on one side ( _just this side of Boy Band_ , he could hear Becca's voice say), and he had a full sleeve tattoo on one of his arms and a myriad of piercings in his ears and one in his eyebrow.

“Bucky!” the man called. 

Bucky stepped up to take his cup, mumbling a ‘thank you’. He stared at the intricate sleeve instead of meeting the man’s eye like he’d intended. Staring up at him from the man’s forearm was a Nazgul riding a Fell Beast, with the Eye of Sauron in the background; more Lord of the Rings imagery disappeared up under the sleeve of his shirt. Bucky looked up and found the man staring at him. To be fair, he hadn’t actually taken his cup of coffee; he’d just reached out and held it. 

Bucky quirked a quick smile, actually took his cup, and hurried out the door before he could embarrass himself further. He'd never seen that barista at Carter's before and he was there just about every day. Granted, a bit later in the day, but still. Not so much later that he'd never have seen him. Maybe he was new, or he usually worked the afternoons. Or he'd ruined Bucky's life because he was handsome and turned Bucky into a stuttering mess. 

Settling back into his driver’s seat, he turned his attention to Monty instead, who eagerly lapped at the whipped cream in his cup (and then nibbled on the paper rim when it was gone). If the guy was new or had changed his schedule, Bucky would just get used to his handsomeness and definitely not ask him out and make it weird at his favorite coffee shop. 

***

Bucky stopped four times on his drive and it was almost ten pm when he finally put his car in park in his parents' driveway. Monty was growl-woof-ing as soon as Bucky turned onto their street and now that they'd arrived, he was dancing on his hind legs and grumbling. 

Becca was first through the door, launching herself into Bucky's arms with a maniacal laugh, hopping out of his hold only a few moments later to give Monty the attention he was whining for. His mum and dad allowed him to get inside the house before gripping him tight and showering him with welcome-home's and we-missed-you's. And food. Bucky had always counted himself fortunate to have a close, loving family. Many of his friends hadn't been as lucky, and his parents had unofficially adopted them over the years and so even when Bucky and Becca weren't home, there was usually one Barnes Kid or another rolling through the house. Winifred and George Barnes reveled in it—the company and noise—and so to find several options for dinner in the fridge was no surprise no matter the hour. 

Bucky ate more lasagna than advisable and Monty stopped playing with Lucky only long enough to inhale his dinner ( _Clint'll be back in the morning, he's out catching up with Kate_ , Bucky's mom had informed him). By the time Bucky shuffled upstairs to bed, Monty at his side, he barely had the energy to plug his phone in before he fell asleep. 

**

 _There was a well-loved elephant propped up on top of a bureau, and a hairless cat played with a bird-and-feathers toy in the doorway, making small chirruping sounds. The sounds of early-morning city drifted up from below and peeking out the window, Bucky estimated he was on the fifth floor of an apartment building. The fire escape outside the window he'd selected had a folding chair with an awning and a low table with coffee-mug rings seeped into the old wood. Bucky wandered out from the bedroom and into a short hallway, off of which was a bathroom, a closed door, a postage stamp for a kitchen, and a living room that was taken over by a couch and loveseat, and art_ — _some hand-drawn, some photographs_ — _all vying for space on the walls._

**

[15 DAYS REMAINING]

When Bucky woke, he had a number on his wrist, steadily counting down: _15:21:48:03...15:21:48:02..._ Bucky slid his wristwatch on and ran a hand through his hair. He was _not_ discussing this before breakfast. Hell, he wasn't discussing it without a drink, if he didn't have to. He wasn't sure how common it was to have a Dream _before_ (or when? He didn’t remember seeing a Clock on his wrist before bed) your Clock showed up. Becca would know; she was doing her grad work on Soulmates. Bucky was _not_ asking her. Not right now anyway. It was too early and he wasn't ready for her interest and questions, or how much he’d over-think it once she started asking. No. He would need some time to shore himself up against his ability to overthink and to prepare himself for his sister's exuberance when she found out. 

It wasn't that having a Soulmate was rare, per se; it was that it wasn't exactly common. Some people had Soulmates, some didn't, and even those that did, didn't always end up with their Soulmate. Soulmates were...complicated. Soul-bonds covered all manner of connections, but most often manifested platonically as best friends or siblings, or romantically as lovers. No matter the type of bond, it was invariably announced in the same way: a countdown clock, and a dream that gave you a peek into one another's lives. 

So Bucky'd met his Soulmate. And now, with little more than two weeks to go until they actually _spoke_ , he had his Dream and his Clock showed up. Typical. He'd be _home_ for the next two weeks. If someone from Nowhere, Indiana, was his Soulmate, Bucky wasn't sure what he'd do. Hope they'd be willing to relocate to New York, probably. 

"You ok, sweetheart?" Winifred hadn't even turned to look at him when she asked. How the hell was he going to keep this from everyone if his mother was apparently clairvoyant? Ugh. 

"Yeah." Bucky busied himself with the Keurig. "The drive just took a lot out of me. I'm still tired." Monty had taken up residence under one of the chairs at the dining room table and promptly fallen back to sleep well within range of garnering some table scraps.

His mother hummed sympathetically but didn't speak. Bucky didn't think she believed him, but she fed him breakfast anyway. 

Breakfast had been big and delicious: a Saturday Morning Barnes Tradition. Winnie and George cooked, Becca and Bucky cleaned, and Clint showed up just in time to have leftovers but not have to clean dishes. Now they were all enjoying the late morning separately; Becca, Clint and Bucky were sitting on the back porch sipping tea and coffee and chatting, George was pulling weeds to prep his garden for the winter, and Winnie was in the far end of the yard making sure her bees were ready for the coming onslaught of cold weather. 

Bucky wasn't about to tell anyone about his Clock or his Dream or his Soulmate, but he couldn't keep it bottled up. He thought about the handsome barista and his incredible tattoo and talked about that, instead. 

“So you ran into your _exact_ type and completely fucked it up. Typical.” Becca sat back in her chair on the porch and reached for her tea. 

Bucky made a sound of indignation. He'd talked mostly about that tattoo, and still his sister hadn't let him wriggle out of having taken _three seconds_ to mention the person attached to it. “I don’t have a type.”

“But you admit you fucked it up. That’s progress.” Clint gave him a thumbs-up.

Bucky reached over to flick his ear. “Sass.”

"Clint's right. You do. Have a type, I mean. Creative, big smile, little bit of a bad attitude.”

“I didn't even _say_ any of that. What the hell you guys."

“Bucky.”

“Ok he probably smiles. But I don’t know the other stuff, and neither do you.” 

“You _could_.” She cajoled. 

“I’m not asking him out.”

“Why not?! What’s the worst that could happen?” Clint had a point. He was also Exhibit A for what could possibly go wrong in a given situation (and yet still manage to land on his feet, somehow. Bucky did not fool himself into thinking he'd be that lucky).

“He says no? And then I need to find a new coffee shop, and I _like_ Carter's. I’ve been going for a couple years and he’s new. Or hasn’t worked the shift that coincides with my schedule yet. Whatever. It’s like a block away from my apartment and I’m lazy. I’m not asking him out.”

Becca groaned. “You joykill.” 

Bucky hummed and sipped his coffee. It wasn't a bad idea, to strike up a conversation and ask the barista out. He might be Bucky's Soulmate. But he might not be. Bucky had also made four stops on the route to Indiana and he'd passed any number of people along the way. With his luck, it'd been someone at a rest stop that was on their way to California or Florida or Alaska or the Moon and he'd never see them again. That wasn't technically how it was meant to work but Bucky was pretty sure if there were an exception to the rule, it would happen to him. He wondered how expensive it was to get to the Moon, just in case. 

"...Buck?" Clint waved a hand in front of Bucky's face and it made him jump.

"Jesus. Sorry."

"What's up, Buckybear? You seem distracted." Clint wiggled his eyebrows.

"I'm just tired. How's Kate?"

"Not a good enough segue." Clint smiled.

"Seriously."

"She's good. Home early because she'll be interning in London during her winter break."

Becca perked up. "Really?" She'd only been out of the state a handful of times thus far and with her final year of her Masters work approaching, had a semester abroad in Spain coming up in January while she did some of her research in collaboration with other scholars in the field there. "Maybe we can all get together on Friday? Rhodey'll be home by then and I think Maria's back for the weekend, too."

Bucky nodded. He'd been texting Rhodey more frequently as Christmas and Hanukkah approached and work calmed down for Bucky and the semester was less crazy for Rhodey ( _Associate Professor Rhodes_ Bucky proud-teased). 

"Yeah, Rhodey'll be back on Friday. I didn't realize Maria was coming into town, though." She'd been one of the few people to ever really escape town and she'd only been back a few times since they graduated college eight years before. 

Clint nodded. "That's what Kate said. She's in-between assignments, I guess. Something like that. Very hush-hush."

Bucky grinned. "Yeah. Let's get the gang back together." He dug his phone out of his pocket and started a group chat he titled _The Breakfast Club_ and texted Becca, Clint, Kate, Rhodey, and Maria: _Drinks on Thurs eve @ the Plow and hangover Fri bfast @ Holly's ??"_

Within a handful of minutes, his phone was seizing as his friends got back to him in the affirmative. 

Perfect. A night out and morning recovery breakfast with his friends would take his mind off his Soulmate and his addition of Hangover Friday Breakfast to Becca's suggestion was enough to distract both she and Clint from prying any further into Bucky's behavior or not-crush. For now.

***

[12 DAYS REMAINING]

Three days after his Clock appeared, his sister found out. And then so did everyone else, because Becca screeched like a pterodactyl in her glee and Winifred and George and Clint came running only to find Bucky trying to wrestle his arm from Becca's grip to no avail. Apparently he was no match for her delight despite the fact that he had six inches and an easy seventy pounds on her. Jesus.

"Bucky's got a Clock!" Becca exclaimed, holding Bucky's arm up like he'd won an MMA match. To be fair, Becca's vice-grip on his arm did indicate if he struggled further things would devolve into one. 

"Oh how exciting!" Winnie swanned over and took his arm to see. Neither of his parents had had a Clock or a Dream or a Soulmate. Neither did Becca (so far, but she _hoped)_.

"What about your Dream?" Clint leaned back against the wall once it was clear there weren't any intruders and Becca's exclamation was one of excitement and not terror. Bucky was sometimes a little surprised Clint hadn't been Becca's Soulmate, honestly, and spared a moment to wonder whether they were dating after all; they'd spent more time than usual together, as far as Bucky could tell. 

Bucky sighed. "I've had two so far. Nothing eye-opening."

Becca waved him off in a way that she meant to be reassuring. "They aren't always, from what I know. Well, not for you until you really know the person. From what I understand, the stuff you see first is super important to your Soulmate but to you might just look like...I don't know. Some old stuffed animal or a tree in their backyard or something." 

Becca had done an extensive amount of research on Dreams and Clocks and Soulmates. Was planning to go into the field, even. She was nearly done with her Masters: Soul-Bond Studies, concentration in Psychology. 

"Oh." Bucky felt like he had to offer something more. Seem more excited. "Cool."

"You ok?" George had been silent the whole time and was generally far more reserved than the others. Bucky really appreciated his dad. 

"Yeah. Just overwhelmed." He motioned to his face. "Still in shock. The excitement will come."

His dad nodded. "Ok. Becca, you said you'd help me rake now that I've done my weeding. Let's go, it's supposed to snow in a few days and I want to get the leaves up."

Winnie nodded. "Clint, you're with me. I'm just about finished with the bees for the season."

"It's almost December!"

Winnie leveled A Look at Clint. "Bees. Sleepy bees. They need blankets."

Clint sighed and pushed off the wall to follow Winnie, and Becca reluctantly let Bucky's arm drop (she'd been holding it the whole time; Bucky counted himself lucky that she hadn't immediately asked him to be part of her thesis), and followed their father out to the garage.

With a sigh of relief, Bucky dropped into a seat at the table and stuck his head in his hands. Bucky hadn't wanted them to find out at all, not until he'd figured out how _he_ felt about it, and much less two days before their evening hangout with all of their friends. It would be a big topic of conversation, Bucky knew, and he dreaded it. It wasn't that he didn't want a Soulmate. It was that...well, it felt like he didn't get a _choice_. And the anticipation was awful. It wasn't a familial bond, which really only left two choices. 

He wasn't sure he wanted to find the love of his life _now_ , at thirty, only really getting settled in his job at HCTech and inching closer to having his Masters. He also wasn't sure he wanted a best friend. A _new_ best friend. He felt like it would be pushing aside the friends he had now. And he knew how much a deep, abiding bond of friendship meant, how much it was worth. That didn't mean that plenty of people didn't _hope_ it would be a romantic love bond instead of a platonic love bond. Bucky couldn't blame people on either side of that particular Discourse. And he hadn't really bothered to think much of it, because he figured he wouldn't have to. 

Ugh. Fuck. Bucky didn't know what to hope for. What to want. But he had the feeling that _want_ was out of the question at this point. Whatever was going to happen, it wasn't up to him, anymore. 

***

[10 DAYS REMAINING]

It took approximately 30 minutes for Bucky's Clock and Soulmate to come up. Which he had to admit, was way longer than he'd anticipated. He'd gotten most of the way through one drink by that point. 

"Bucky, ohmygosh _thisissoexciting_!" Kate rushed out all in one breath. She didn't grab for his arm but it was a near thing. 

"Does this mean your parents are going to stop paying us to hang out with you?"

Bucky gave Rhodey a gentle shove. "If only your students knew what a smartass you were."

Rhodey gave Bucky a wide smile and merely sipped his beer. Bucky loved Rhodey. 

Clint laughed. "Why do you think he gets such good evaluations? He's _only_ a smartass."

Bucky hums in agreement. "That's a good point—what _are_ you teaching those students, Dr. Rhodes? How to sass your friends? How to build planes _and_ sass your friends?"

" _And_ I happen to be _very good_ at math. It's the trifecta." Rhodey waggled his eyebrows. 

Becca giggled. "Apologies, Associate Professor Rhodes, Department of Aeronautics and Astronautics."

Rhodey gave a small bow from his seat before tipping his bottle towards Bucky. "Seriously though, man. Congratulations. It's exciting—or so I hear. I've got a student that got his Clock the day before his final, and the countdown was ending about ten minutes after the exam. He...," Rhodey laughed, "didn't do so great on the exam, but I'm gonna let him retake it after the break. He was a little distracted."

Becca put a hand to her heart. "You big softie."

Rhodey nudged her with an elbow. "Like you can talk. You're writing your dissertation on it. Which, if you're looking for people to interview, I can see if he'd be interested."

"Really?" 

The two of them had their heads together in moments, hashing out details.

Maria had been quiet until that point, waiting for the conversation to move on to lean over to Bucky with a tight smile. "Me too. I go back to DC in five days." She tugged the sleeve of her shift up just enough for Bucky to see the numbers. "Seven days from now, I meet them."

Bucky squeezed her hand. "Ten days, for me. You ok?"

She nodded. "Yeah. I think. I'm...ready."

"Text me?"

Her smile was more genuine then. "I'll call you. And you call me, ok?"

"Yeah. Absolutely." Bucky snaked an arm around her shoulders and squeezed. "Thanks, Maria."

Her response was cut off by the delivery of a tray of shot glasses. 

"To friends, family, holidays, and Soulmates!" Becca crowed. 

Maria raised an eyebrow at Bucky as she raised her glass, playful smile on her lips. "To Soulmates."

The evening devolved after that into laughter and light and take-out at just-before-the-restaurant-closed-o'clock. Bucky really loved his friends.

***

[9 DAYS REMAINING]

Breakfast at Holly's Diner the next day was…a sight. Clint groaned like maybe he was dying and drank deep from the coffee mug in front of him. Bucky wasn't sure exactly how he got the server to get him a mug that big. No one else was much better off; Becca was leaned up against Clint's shoulder, clearly trying not to bury in away from the light lest she seem like she didn't want bacon or waffles or eggs. Bucky was afraid to move too much and fall out of his chair inadvertently. It'd been a near thing getting into it to begin with. Rhodey was staring at his orange juice like he was having an existential crisis (he might have been), and also like he regretted the last two drinks, but not the pizza they'd had after. 

Kate and Maria were unusually quiet and Bucky thought they'd fallen asleep on one another until Kate mumbled: "Mimosas."

Maria grunted and it wasn't agreement or dissent.

Kate persisted. "Mimosas, Maria. Hair of the dog. Yes."

Maria made a sound of distress, but ultimately, clearly, decided that it couldn't make her feel worse. 

Thirty minutes later it was clear that Kate was onto something, and so everyone else ordered a mimosa, too. They were super good and Bucky made a note to suggest going to brunch with his Soulmate once they met. If brunch was a thing they liked. He hoped so. (Had to, right? How could they be Bucky's _Soulmate_ and not like brunch? It was almost criminal).

So Hangover Friday turned into Hangover Saturday and Bucky was almost glad—he felt too miserable to worry about his Clock and his Soulmate and if he had any other Dreams, he didn't remember them, and he was also too miserable for his family to want to pester him about his Soulmate. So that was a win. Kind of. Not for his liver, but Bucky would take what he could get.


	2. I Think About You All The Time

**{Steve}**

Steve rested his forehead against the table during his unexpected late-morning-rush break. It'd been a long morning. It started off quietly enough, and then the morning rush came, which was fine, but there was a conference or something a block over and so there were more people in line for coffee than usual on a Saturday. 

He'd hit his stride, and despite the line was getting coffees and teas and whatever-specialties-of-the-month made like he barely had to think about it. And then he was handing over a seasonal-pumpkin-something. Except instead of grabbing the coffee cup, the woman grabbed his wrist. Steve jerked away in surprise and dropped the drink all over the counter. At least he hadn't splashed her with it; she'd ordered it extra-hot. 

"Sorry, sorry—you ok? I'll-" he started to say, but the rest of his sentence was lodged in his throat. He wasn't going to do anything. It was nine in the morning and Steve had a Clock on his wrist. He looked back up at the woman. "Um. Sorry. I'll—I'll make you another. Sorry."

She smiled. "It's ok. That's exciting. Congratulations. Do you—do you think you might...know who it is?"

Steve would have normally told her that it wasn't any of her business. It was an invasive question, to say nothing of her hold on his wrist, and he'd have been well within his rights to tell her that it especially wasn't appropriate to ask a complete stranger. Fortunately for Steve, even if he wasn't feeling himself, someone else was. 

"That's not really your business." Sharon passed along a new pumpkin-extra-hot-nonsense. "But this coffee is. Have a great day!" 

She turned away from the woman without waiting to see if she'd respond (Steve had to admit, the woman's affronted look was pretty funny and he was only a little disappointed Sharon didn't get to see it) and took Steve by the shoulders. "Take ten, I've got this—and here," she reached under the counter and pulled out her purse. "I've got concealer in there. It'll get you through the day."

Steve took her purse and ducked towards the back room, where he dug through her bag and got to work dabbing concealer on his wrist and then applying finishing spray. Steve really loved his friends. 

Sharon had a Soulmate and understood what the attention was like. She and Natasha had found each other almost three years ago now and they were fiercely dedicated to anything they put their minds to—especially one another. Sharon had opened Carter's Coffee Shop fresh out of college, determined to own her own business, and her first customer put money in the till and a Clock on Sharon's wrist. In such a customer-facing business, Sharon bore all manner of prying questions and so Steve wasn't surprised she was sensitive to the experience others had. 

It was generally considered poor taste to ask a stranger about their Clock. Soulmates weren't unheard of, but they were uncommon enough to cause a commotion when someone had a Clock. It was fairly common to see Clock Parties—complete with their own Instagram hashtags—and there were _so many_ Pinterest boards for party ideas and themes.Steve had made some decent money on the side doing Clock photoshoots, both close-ups and what Steve internally called 'Senior Year Photos' during countdowns, as well as close-ups and couples' shots once the clocks ran out (it was easy to book a photographer when you had a date and time built in). He just never expected he'd have a Clock. Not because he was being down on himself and he didn't think he deserved a Soulmate but just...statistically. It was one of those things you heard about, it wasn't one of those things that ever happened _to_ you. 

He banged his forehead (gently) against the table top in the employee break room in the back as he got his head together and thought of the million and one people he saw any given day of the week: tourists, people in a rush to work or a meeting or an interview. A man with somewhat shaggy brown hair and startlingly blue-grey eyes and a shy smile. Steve groaned and picked his head up, shoving the finishing spray back in Sharon's bag. If Steve had a Soulmate, he wasn't going to lucky enough for it to be that man, or if it was, for it to be a romantic bond. Steve _was_ being down on himself this time and he was willing to admit it. Definitely not out loud to anyone else, but in his head, to himself? Sure. 

***

"Wear a bracelet or a watch or something tomorrow." Sharon had locked the door to the cafe nearly fifteen minutes ago and they worked in companionable, tired silence, sweeping up, wiping down, and generally prepping for the next morning. Steve didn't usually work mornings but his class schedule this semester meant his schedule was all kinds of split-up and that his boss was _very_ understanding. Mornings some days, afternoons others, and usually a split shift here-and-there. Maybe he ought to consider Carter's regular morning customers in his endless tally of possible Soulmates, too.

Steve nodded. "I will. Thanks again. I wasn't—I didn't-"

"No one's ever expecting it."

Steve stopped his wipe down of the espresso machine and watched Sharon tuck chairs back under tables for a few moments. 

"Can I ask you how it felt for you?"

Sharon tossed him a wry smile. "You sort of already have. So sure." She leaned on the back of one chair, watching Steve in thought. "It was...exciting. I always hoped I'd have a Soulmate—a bunch of people in my family do, so I was hoping to get to experience what I saw them get."

Steve nodded, and went back to scrubbing the machine a little harder. 

"How does it feel for you?" Sharon's question caught him off-guard, though in fairness if he'd taken two seconds to think about it, it would have been reasonable to expect that she'd ask him the same thing. Steve was really looking forward to getting home and relaxing and staring at his Clock.

"Uh. I don't...know? I'm excited but I'm nervous. I've had our little group of friends for so long, it feels strange to have someone else soon. I don't feel like I _need_ anyone else."

Sharon set the broom down just inside the doorway to the back room. "It's not really about need, or being whole or whatever those made-for-TV-movies say it is. It's..." she trailed off, staring into middle distance as she thought. "It's like a really deep sense of comfort, I guess. It's a kind of unconditional love, but not the only one out there. It just...comes on faster, and you can physically _feel_ it in a way that you don't with other people." 

Steve nodded, not sure he understood but unwilling to be ungrateful. "Thanks, Sharon."

She waved him away. "You'll see what I mean. In...?"

"Hm? Oh. Like fifteen days?"

Sharon nodded, offering Steve a reassuring smile. "That's not bad."

"What was yours?"

Sharon laughed. "A month."

"What?!" Steve didn't believe it, but Sharon didn't have a reason to make it up.

"It's not the first words you say. Sometimes isn't even the first conversation. It's the first...meaningful conversation, I guess is the best way to put it. That first real meeting of the minds. Sometimes literally. For Natasha and I, we both started to ask the other out, telling the other person that we 'never did this', and that was it. We... _knew_. Like I knew that it would be that _day_ that I met my Soulmate, but I wasn't watching my Clock. I just..." she shrugged. "Felt it, that this was it, and then when I looked at my wrist my Clock had hit zero." 

It gave him more hope than he wanted to have, and maybe a little bit more anxiety. He busied himself with taking off his apron and gathering his things to distract himself. "I always thought it was the first thing you said to the other person."

"It's definitely the standard in the movies, but it's not always the case in real life. I mean, I've heard of plenty of instances where that _is_ the case—like people who work in large companies together that have seen each other, but not actually spoken before. I think it just...depends."

Steve sighed as he shouldered his messenger bag. "I feel like this whole Soulmate thing is a lot more complicated than I knew. I mean they teach you about it in school but...I don't know. You never think it's going to be you."

"Well, it'll be you soon enough. And whether they end up being your best friend or the love of your life, we'll all still be here for you." Sharon motioned to the door. "Now get out of here and go relax. You need to get your head together."

Steve smiled, waving before ducking out onto the sidewalk. "Thanks, Sharon. See you tomorrow."

Steve tugged the sleeves of his jacket to be sure they were in place (of course they were). He wasn't ashamed—he was _excited_ —but he also didn't want to have to deal with anyone staring once they noticed. He'd had a long day and he was desperate to get home, heat up his stir-fry, snuggle with his cat, and watch Netflix. And definitely _not_ think about his Soulmate. 

***

Steve startled at movement in his peripherals. Pepper was home. He'd been staring at his wrist and after such a long day, had taken out his hearing aids. He just wanted the world to be a little quieter, if his thoughts wouldn't be. 

"Hey," he said, reaching for his aids, but Pepper waved him off, seeing his motion, and seated herself in the armchair across from him.

_Don't._ She signed. _Makes for a longer day, huh?_

_Yeah. I don't know_.

Pepper smiled. _Tea?_

Steve's shoulders inched away from his ears. _Please_. Steve always appreciated Pepper, but never so much as in that moment when she remembered just how much tea and talking meant to and did for Steve. (Tea and Saving the World with Sarah Rogers, as Pepper'd called it since middle school).

She returned a short while later and passed him a mug—black tea with lemon and honey.

_Always worked when your mum did it for us_. She picked up her own mug and motioned for Steve to share.

After a sip, he did. "It just...showed up this morning, mid-rush. Some woman noticed it first. Grabbed my arm and everything."

_No!_ Pepper looked scandalized.

"Yeah. Sharon dealt with her and gave me cover up. I guess I'll wear a watch or something now. For the next couple of weeks." He held up his wrist so she could see the Clock.

_Good._

"It's so strange, Pep. I've only ever had mom, and then you and mom, and now you—and I mean it's not like I don't have other friends but...but this is different. I hope I'm ready." 

She waited, then raised an eyebrow as she waited longer, before adding, _And?_

Steve sighed. "Stop reading my mind. _And_ I hope I'm what they're hoping for."

_They're your Soulmate. They'll love you as you are._ Her lips quirked into a mischievous smile. _If the rest of us can stand you without being your Soulmate, they'll have no trouble_.

"Hey!"

She laughed. 

_Seriously, though, I hope this Soulmate is the love of your life, because I refuse to relinquish my title as Platonic Life Partner_. _And also I'll ruin their life if they hurt you._

Steve laughed. _As if anyone could ever take that from you_. 

He didn't address her other point. He knew she meant it and he knew she could do it. He'd known Pepper since middle school and they'd been fast friends since they met. When Pepper's parents died, Sarah Rogers was first in line to foster her, and would have adopted her, had her Aunt Melinda not resettled in New York within a handful of months ( _I was getting tired of the government anyway_ , she'd said) and adopted her. Pepper was poised and professional and playful and was absolutely no one to fuck with (before living with her Aunt Melinda, and certainly not after). He loved her. 

***

[12 DAYS REMAINING]

Steve managed to not only cover up his Clock (foundation, finishing spray, and a watch as back-up), but stop panicking about what to wear under his apron the day his Clock would hit zero. Pepper promised to help him pick out an outfit and style his hair. It wasn't that he couldn't, it was just that he was so excited and nervous that he preferred it if someone that would be much more calm about everything would have final say on his wardrobe that day. It had been three days since his Clock showed up and he'd perfected his cover-up and had gotten his nerves mostly under control.

"If you're going for subtle, it's a near-miss."

Steve glanced up from the milk he was steaming to see T'Challa's mischievous smile. 

"What're you talking about?" He could feel his ears turning pink even as he asked. Steve knew T'Challa knew Steve was deflecting. They'd been fast friends since freshman year of college. Much like with Pepper, there wasn't much Steve could hide from T'Challa. If Steve's other friends had noticed he'd suddenly taken to wearing a watch, none of them mentioned it.

T'Challa shrugged. "Maybe I'm wrong. Let's grab dinner tonight though?"

Steve nodded. "Please. Where?" He handed over T'Challa's cup. 

"Mm." He furrowed his brow as he took a sip. " _Mm_. What's in this? And let's say Pho and Thai?"

"I made it with English Breakfast instead of Earl Grey, what d'you think? And perfect. I love that place."

T'Challa nodded. "Add it to the menu. See you there at six?"

"Definitely." Steve tipped a cup in his direction before starting to make the order written in Sharon's messy handwriting on the side. Dinner with T'Challa would be a good distraction. 

***

"So are we going to talk about the watch you never wear, or are we going to pretend like you aren't hiding something?"

Steve groaned. "Why is this all anyone wants to talk about?"

T'Challa held up his hands. "I am sorry. It _is_ newsworthy. But we don't have to talk about it, I'm sure Sharon and Pepper—and you—are staying pretty on-topic. I can tell you all about how work is going and how Nakia is doing and how much smarter Shuri is since you last saw her."

"I saw her last week."

T'Challa beamed. "Then there's plenty you missed."

Steve laughed. "How is everyone?"

"Good, really. Nakia is traveling next week, she has a client in London she'll be running a week-long negotiation workshop for. And Shuri's just about done with her dissertation. She defends in three weeks."

"I can't believe she's almost done with her PhD. She's _twenty-one_."

"Imagine how I feel."

Steve laughed. "And what about you?"

T'Challa shrugged and took a sip of his drink.

"T'Challa." Steve tried not to grin too wide.

"It is happening, stop looking so smug. My father is retiring in three months and I'll be stepping into his role." He leaned forward and lowered his voice some. "And I'll be proposing to Nakia two months later."

"That's pretty exact." Steve tried not to sound too amused, but he very much appreciated T'Challa's methodical approach. To everything. 

"I have her grandmother's ring and it will be the same day that her parents got engaged. So yes. It's a little exact."

Steve shifted in his chair before he couldn't contain himself further and reached out to clasp T'Challa's hand. "I am _so happy_ for you. She's going to love that."

"I hope so." 

"I know so. I know so _so_ much that even though I don't want to talk about it now, I'll probably be texting you a lot about how to be romantic."

T'Challa raised an eyebrow. "You think it will be a romantic connection?"

Steve turned pink. A little. "I think so? I hope so."

T'Challa gave Steve's hand a squeeze before letting go. "Me too."

"And how's your mom?"

"Ugh." T'Challa rolled his eyes. "Understanding but impatient about my timeline. She just wants to celebrate with Nakia and plan a wedding. I don't know what I'd do without Shuri graduating in the meantime."

"Maybe your dad retiring will keep her distracted too?"

"No, she'll just have help."

Steve laughed. It was good; it'd been almost a month since he'd had a chance to catch up with T'Challa and it was a distraction he was grateful for. Few people understood him so well and made him laugh so much. He wasn't sure many people got that lucky with their freshman year college roommate assignment, but Steve had never taken that luck for granted.

Which was why, _of course,_ he had a Dream that night. 

_The apartment is organized chaos; stacks of papers and books on a table, a messenger bag leaned against a chair leg, a laptop open and file folders on the side of the table not taken up by books and papers. Steve could hear the Keurig churning and watched as coffee poured into a '_ World's Okay-est Brother' _mug. It was quiet in the apartment but once in the bedroom the white noise machine next to the bed was audible and beside that, there was a photograph of almost a dozen people on a porch in what looked like a more rural area, all wide smiles and arms flung out around whomever they could reach._

Steve woke with the distinct sense that his Soulmate maybe didn't have room for him, in their life, so full with friends and family and what looked like work or school or something else important. 

Not that Steve wasn't busy himself, doing important things. He was in school too, and would be finished with his degree in three more semesters. He was going to be interning over the next summer at a marketing firm, working under the Creative Director. He loved Sharon's shop, it was flexible hours and good friends and even when it was stressful, it was manageable. 

It was also about 4:30 in the morning and Steve knew he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep. Sighing, he swung his legs out of bed and padded quietly to the kitchen to start breakfast. Pepper would be up in about twenty minutes or so anyway; Wednesdays were barre-before-work days for Pepper (as were Mondays and Fridays). He got smoothie ingredients together and prepped the oven. Eggs baked in muffin tins jammed full of veggies were a favorite before Pepper had to teach three days a week and if he was up early, Steve was going to distract himself until he had to get ready for class (Wednesdays were morning class days for Steve, and every Wednesday, he sort of regretted not making all of his classes afternoon classes this semester). 

A handful of minutes after the muffin tin went into the oven, Pepper breezed into the kitchen with a wide smile, sneakers, leggings, and a tank top reading _Morning Person_ with a picture of a disgruntled looking cat. _Something smells amazing,_ she signed and said. 

"I showered." Steve smiled, switching his hearing aids on.

She headed for the coffee maker and brewed enough for two, shaking a little nutmeg and cinnamon into the grounds before she did. Steve loved when she made coffee. 

"Thanks, Pepper." 

"Sleep ok?" 

He loaded up and turned on the blender to very obviously buy himself a little time. Pepper tried to look unamused and failed. 

"I had my first Dream." He said over the blender. 

She waited until he was pouring them each a glass to respond. "And?"

"And they seem... _busy_. Stressed? A little messy. Lots of friends and family."

"So, like you?" She smiled around the rim of her glass. 

"Maybe. Do you think you'll see that guy again?"

Pepper groaned. "Way too obvious a segue, but fine. We can talk about the Dream later. He seemed...spontaneous, and I need a little of that in my life." She waved a hand at herself. "I'm a little too regimented."

"You mispronounced 'badass'."

She laughed. "Stop."

"No. Honestly. Who teaches barre first thing in the morning and _then_ goes to work? Three days a week? What even. Does this mean you think he can keep up with you?"

Her smile got very wide, then. "Honestly, I think I'm curious about whether _I_ can keep up with _him_."

"Whoa." Steve pulled their eggs from the oven. "That's...impressive. Intimidating. What's his name again, Tommy?"

"Tony. So...yeah. I think I'll see him again."

Steve smiled. "Good. You need someone who can keep up with you and deserves you."

"You too." Pepper picked out a few egg scrambles. "Which, speaking of, I'm not letting go of the subject so you might as well keep talking. I'll bring home sushi tonight."

"That's playing dirty."

Pepper smiled serenely.

"Fine! I got my schedule for the next two weeks yesterday and I'll be on-shift at the shop when my Clock runs out. So. That should be _great_."

"Did you tell Sharon?"

"Not yet, I didn't do the math until I got home yesterday."

"You should, you know she'd give you the rest of the day off."

"That seems a little over-the-top, don't you think?"

"It's your _Soulmate_ Steve! Oh my god. Are you romantic at all, or have all those photoshoots ruined you?"

"Maybe a little?" He could only stand under her unimpressed gaze for so long. Five seconds. Whatever. "Fine! I'll ask for the rest of the day. Hopefully _they're_ hopeless too and don't have anything else to do, either, otherwise I'm going to look stupid."

"I think it's a sweet gesture either way, and that they'll appreciate it." She sniffed. "And now I'm going to barre and work. Ask for the rest of that day off."

"Has anyone every told you you're bossy?"

Pepper smiled wide before ducking out of the apartment. "Well. You _are_ an expert on bossy." 


	3. I No Longer Pretend To Have My Hand On The Wheel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art by the incredible @feisty-slytherin1027:
> 
> https://www.deviantart.com/feisty-slytherin1027/art/Barista-Steve-serving-Bucky-821655783

**{Bucky}**

[7 DAYS REMAINING]

His Clock had run down to seven days when he met up with Maria for lunch. She was leaving for DC in the morning and they'd been texting back and forth about their Clocks and hopes and worries. 

"So what happens in, what, three days?" Bucky poked at the fruit in his sangria with the little toothpick it'd come speared on. 

Maria sighed. "Four days. I start a new job."

"What?!" 

"Well, sort of. Part time. Volunteer, when I can."

"I was worried you were giving up your status as an operative for good. Where's the volunteer work?"

Maria laughed. "I'm _not_ an operative. And I'll be volunteering at the VA a couple stops from my place."

Bucky grinned. "That's _exactly_ what an operative would say."

"Ugh!"

"No really though, the VA sounds cool. What'll you be doing?" Maria had done a tour prior to college and Bucky knew how much the VA had meant to her when she returned. 

"Mostly administrative stuff; answering phones and email, data entry—stuff that needs doing that doesn't always get done." She smiled. "I figure with me and other volunteers helping with that, the therapists and group leaders can be more effective."

"Can you stop saving the world so often? You're making the rest of us look bad."

Maria sighed, much put-upon, as she tried not to smile. "If only you knew how hard it was, being better than everyone else, you would never ask that question."

Bucky cracked up.

Maria picked at his Parmesan and herb fries. "That's where I think I'll meet them."

"Yeah?"

"Mm. It makes sense."

"Or maybe on the way there? Maybe you bump into them and one of you ruins a shirt spilling coffee everywhere and there's awkward double-entendre apologies."

It was Maria's turn to laugh. "Oh my god, I didn't realize I was at lunch with Becca."

"I've been watching a _lot_ of Hallmark channel with she and Mom since I've been home. It's been…influential."

"Don't go pinning this on them."

Bucky stopped with his burger halfway to his mouth, eyebrows raised in offense. "Hey!"

"'Hey' nothing, you've always been a hopeless romantic. I hope it happens that way for you. You would love that."

Bucky took a large bite of his burger instead of responding. He _would_ love that. 

Maria narrowed her eyes. "Ok, fine. How's work?" 

"Good, busy. I'm really grateful they're flexible about hours, one of my classes I have to physically be on campus for, so a few days a week I need to leave early to get to campus."

"Yeah but getting your Masters is a big deal; it's good they recognize how valuable it is—and how valuable you are."

"Especially since they're trusting me with one of their bigger accounts."

"Well, you've earned it; that's not something a company does to be _nice_."

"Do you think it's too early?"

"What?" She crammed a bite of her sandwich into her mouth as she waited. 

"Getting my Clock."

She shrugged. "Some people get them way younger."

"Yeah, I know, but-"

"-I didn't?" 

Bucky blushed. "Yeah. Sorry." 

Maria waved it away. "Don't apologize. I don't think I'd have been ready if I was thirty. I was still...getting my feet back under me. Now, I feel ready. And I think you are, too."

"Yeah?" Given their seven-year age gap, Maria wasn't all that much older than he was but her insight had always meant the world to him. 

Maria reached across the table and gave his hand a squeeze. She wasn't always very tactile so Bucky braced himself for whatever was coming next. "I think these things happen when they happen for a reason. You've been over-your-head busy with work and class and this is the first real break you've taken in a while. Maybe this means you'll take more time for you by taking time with this person."

"I haven't been _that_ busy."

Maria raised an eyebrow and didn't release his hand.

"Ok. I've been a little busy."

"This is your first vacation since last year! This is your first time with more than a _day_ off in a year. Bucky."

"...You might have a point."

She gave his hand a squeeze and let go. "Maybe."

"See this is why everyone thinks you're an operative."

"James Buchanan Barnes, you're an open book."

"Ugh. Fine. I'm a hopeless workaholic-romantic. I'm getting a cookie sundae."

Bucky shared his sundae because he was feeling benevolent and also because Maria had a really good point about self-care and he maybe didn't want to admit it. He also didn't want to admit that he'd done the math—his Clock would run out about fifteen minutes after he needed to be at work. So it wasn't the really cute barista he kept thinking about. And it wasn't someone he passed in a rest stop on his way to Indiana. He didn't think, anyway. He was hoping it wasn't one of their new clients; they did have a meeting first thing in the morning when he got back. That could be awkward professionally. 

He shoved another bite of cookie sundae into his mouth. "Have you met anyone at the VA aside from the person who interviewed you?"

"Just their Director, Nick. I'll meet more of the staff when I start; a few counselors and then some part-time staff that run events like art therapy."

"Could it be him?" Bucky waggled his eyebrows. 

"Definitely not, I've met him too many times. But that Thursday is art and music therapy and a group session, so I think it'll be a busy day. I should be meeting them sometime around midday, so I'll have to see what's on the schedule when and prepare myself. As best I can, anyway."

"I want to say that's cheating, but I did the same."

"Yeah?" 

"My Clock should run out right as we're starting a meeting with a new client." Bucky tried to keep from making a face. He succeeded. Mostly.

"Well. That'll be awkward."

"Don’t worry, it gets worse. I hear from Gabe that one of the guys we're meeting with is kind of a jerk. Who’s even named Brock anyway?"

"Well, he's one of a few though, right?"

"One of two."

Maria winced, but quickly smoothed out her expression. "There's no way you'd get stuck with a jerk. This is your _Soulmate_. Maybe he's anxious, or something's not translating well over email."

"I hope."

"I _know_. You're the best. You deserve the best, too."

"So do you, you know. You're the older sister I never had."

Maria nudged his foot under the table. "Not _never_."

Bucky smiled. "Eat your sandwich."

***

Bucky spent the rest of the afternoon and evening feeling far more at ease than he had been before. He still had a week to work himself back up into a nervous frenzy, but having someone to talk to who was also waiting for their Clock to run down was helpful. He felt _excited_ at the prospect of meeting his Soulmate. Not that he hadn't been before; it had just taken a backseat to his worry. He was overworked and his apartment was a mess and he knew that Maria was right about taking care of himself. 

It took him the entire afternoon and evening, too, to come to a realization he should have much sooner. Maybe it was all the calming down. He had a front-row seat to some of the more cutting-edge research on Soulmates, thanks to his sister, and so he resolved to pick her brain about it. And maybe in return he'd let her interview him and his Soulmate (if his Soulmate agreed, of course). 

Growing up in a house full of people had it's advantages—sure, you were never really alone in the house too often, but everyone was also fairly accustomed to someone banging around at all hours, even if it'd been years since they'd all really lived under the same roof. Clint would always roll in after midnight from his place on the porch once he finished his latest book and making some tea or a quick snack, or once he was old enough, from finishing up his late shift bar-backing at the Lakeside Tavern. Maria (who was probably the quietest of them all) coming by early before school her senior year to catch a ride with Bucky and Becca, (the high school was on the way by the middle school and George and Winifred Barnes would be dead before they turned away a child in need), because her dad worked the graveyard shift at the hospital, or sometimes coming by in the night when she just didn't want to be home by herself while he was at work. 

So Bucky didn't worry too much about waking anyone up when he went about baking peanut butter blossoms—Becca's favorite (and if he ate about a dozen Hersey Kisses while he was at it, who could blame him?). Maybe he didn't need to bribe her, she was always more than happy to launch into a conversation about her research or Soulmates in general. But he still felt like he should. For all that he was a hopeless romantic, he always teased Becca about the same thing, and here he was baking her favorite cookies at midnight. Whether they were an apology, or a peace offering or maybe just to (peanut) butter her up so he could pick her brain without her (honestly, fair) teasing right back, he wasn't really sure, and definitely didn't have the capacity to dig into it then. He also had to find a way to hide them from Clint until morning. 

He wasn't sure which would be the bigger task. 

***

[6 DAYS REMAINING]

"Is this a bribe?" Becca smiled at the plate of cookies with a post-it note reading ' _Becca <3'_.

"It's a thank you? In advance." Bucky offered his most hopeful smile. 

She laughed. "Ok fine. I'll let you take me to breakfast and we can talk." She glanced up as Clint shuffled into the kitchen and continued without breaking eye contact with him. "And then I'll eat all my cookies myself."

"Fine!" Clint grumbled, throwing up one hand while reaching for a coffee pod with the other. 

Taking pity on him, Becca gave him three of the cookies on a napkin and dropped a kiss on the top of his head as Clint bent his face over the steam of his mug.

It wasn't until they were halfway to the Sunrise Cafe that Bucky spoke. "So...you and Clint?"

Becca groaned. "No. Maybe. I don't know. You and making me cookies in the middle of the night?"

"We better get a big breakfast. _Lots_ to talk about."

"Bucky, why."

"I'm just asking! You two have always had this playful thing between you and it's never been anything and now suddenly I come home for a couple of weeks and he's rushing in when you yell and you're being more affectionate. _Differently_ affectionate. Am I wrong?"

"No. Not really. It's—we’re sort of...starting something, really slowly. I don't know how it happened it just...did. Goofing off as usual and then...all of a sudden we realized we weren't and wanted to maybe see where we could go. But we're being super slow and low-key. Mum and Dad don't know. Neither of us wants things to be awkward if it doesn't work out."

Bucky nodded, doing his best not to smile too wide. "Ok. Alright. I won't say anything. Aside from: _do you know how long I've been waiting for this to happen?_ Also are you sure Mum and Dad don't know? They're pretty perceptive."

"Bucky, no. Stop it. I hope they don't know yet."

"Honestly. You've always had a different connection with him."

Becca followed he and the host to a table by the window. She smiled, all mischief as she set a napkin in her lap and took her menu. "Speaking of connections…"

" _Terrible_ segue."

" _Speaking of connections_ ," Becca persisted, "what about you, Mr. Soulmate?"

"What if I miss them? I'm driving home the day before my Clock runs out. What if...I don't know. My car breaks down or I get stuck in traffic or whatever and I miss them?"

"First of all, you don't even know if your Soulmate is in New York, they could be someone you passed in a rest stop. Or that helps you fix your flat on the side of the highway. When did you Clock show up?"

"The morning after I got here."

Becca nodded. "Ok. So we don't have the timing down to a science yet, but Clocks show up within 24 hours of meeting your Soulmate."

"Well I got up at like 5 to be on the road by six-ish, I'm pretty sure."

She paused only so they could order (seriously Becca, who eats that much food? Clint might really be perfect for her), and then turned back to Bucky. "Ok, so it showed up in your sleep."

"Oh! That was the first night I had a Dream, too."

"You had your first _Dream_ that night? Before the Clock, or around the time your Clock showed up?"

"...Yes?"

"Bucky. That's...it's not _impossible_ but it's definitely pretty rare. When you said you'd had two Dreams I thought you meant _after_ the Clock showed up, like two nights in a row. That's more common. Wow. Ok. So let's say sometime between 5am one morning and 5 am the next. It can be anyone you came across in that time frame."

"Right but still, what if I hit traffic or something happens?"

"It doesn't matter, Clocks...it's not predetermined—we don't _think_. This is another not-exact-science part of the science. They've readjusted, they've slowed down, they've sped up—it's like it _knows_ but we don't know how it knows. It's..." she made a disgusted sound, "it's like _fate_ only I don't want to call it that."

"Why not?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. I guess it feels like a cop-out? There's been so much research over the years and it seems like giving up to just say _well, it's fate!_ "

"I don't know. I think a little mystery is nice."

"So you aren't anxious, at all, about who it might be?"

"Well, I mean, I am, but I don't know that I want to know how to predict who it is. There is something ...fun? Exciting? About it at the same time."

"Fair enough."

Bucky took the arrival of their food as a chance to appear more interested in his pancakes than his next question. "Is it difficult to adjust to?"

Becca stole the syrup he was reaching for and waited until he met her eye. "Sometimes. But it works out. It's not personalities that take time, it's more...balancing everything you've had with what this new person brings."

Bucky nodded. "Makes sense."

She passed the syrup. "It's gonna be fine, Bucky." 

He glanced to his wrist as he set the syrup back on the table. In six days he'd meet his Soulmate. And it would be fine, whatever that ended up meaning. He had to believe that, because he didn't have much choice, and the stress he was putting on himself wasn't helping. 

"Yeah." He gave Becca his best smile. "It will be."


	4. Is This Fate, Is It My Destiny

**{Steve}**

[7 DAYS REMAINING]

Steve had _meant_ to ask for the rest of the day off, the day his Clock ran out. He had. He never lied to Pepper. It was just that by the time he got to Carter's that morning almost a week earlier there was a line out the door and Sharon had been...not herself. She hadn't wanted to talk about it and so Steve let it go. Until today. It'd been six days and it wasn't like Sharon to be so distracted for so long. And he seriously needed to ask for the day before it got so close he couldn't ask at all; he was inside of a week, asking on a Sunday afternoon. And he may have also been second-guessing how desperate he might look if he took the day and his Soulmate hadn't.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" He continued wiping down the espresso machine as he asked.

"I'm just frustrated with Natasha right now. It's not a big deal."

"It's been six days, at least. And...she's your Soulmate." 

Sharon blew stray strands of hair out of her face. "Yeah. That doesn't mean she's _perfect_. It means she's the person I best align with. You still get frustrated and angry with your Soulmate sometimes. You just know you'll work it out." 

"Oh." Objectively, Steve knew that. But he sort of hadn't thought about it. Hadn't wanted to. 

Sharon smiled. "Your stubborn ass won't drive them away. Maybe to the end of their rope, but not away. Promise." 

Apparently Steve's face said everything for him. "I hope so. That's what Pepper keeps saying."

"She's right. You'll both be treading carefully to begin with anyway. And then something will happen and you'll fight and realize you're still standing and be ok."

"Is that what happened to you?"

"It's what happened to everyone I know. For Nat and I, our first fight was about three months in. I don't even remember what it was about, now."

"And now?"

Sharon raised an eyebrow.

"Sorry. Not my business."

She shrugged. "It's ok. It's about work. How much we both do. How much our schedules don't coincide."

Steve smiled. "Sounds like you guys miss each other."

Sharon smiled. "See? You'll be fine."

Steve let go of a deep breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "Thanks."

"...And?"

"...And can I have the rest of that morning off? The day my Clock runs out?"

"Which is when?"

"Uh," Steve winced as he admitted, "a week from now? Kind of. Next Monday?"

It was Sharon's turn to wince. "Rogers. It's a little late notice, but yeah—take the day after twelve. I can have Peter come in to cover the afternoon; he was asking for more hours recently and that's a place to start."

Steve had learned a thing or two about looking a gift horse in the mouth (after more punches in the mouth than is really worth mentioning) and so he thanked Sharon and smiled and was happy that he was able to take even part of the day with only a week's notice when schedules were put out every two weeks. 

And who knew if his Soulmate could even take the day, or thought to. Who knew if is Soulmate was as big a sap as Steve secretly (or not-so-secretly) was? He had resolved to not care what his Soulmate might think of it, now that he'd talked to Sharon (again). Oh god, what if they hated tattoos and piercings or his taste in music or pancakes or coffee or—well, probably not coffee. Given how much time he spent in Carter's, it was where, in all likelihood, he first met his Soulmate. But still. Plenty of people order tea or pastry and not coffee. He might have been splitting hairs.

And zoning out.

"...Steve?"

Sharon was waving a hand in front of his face and looking vaguely concerned. She'd clearly said it name a few times, then.

"Sorry."

"You gonna tell someone what you're so hesitant about?"

Steve couldn't help the familiar, mulish set he felt his features settle into. "I have."

Sharon raised an eyebrow. He was pretty sure she already did it well, but that her time with Natasha had perfected it. 

"I'm just nervous and I'm not usually nervous. At all. I've got a pretty long record—even if they are only misdemeanors—and a bunch of tattoos and piercings and-"

"I feel like the fact that most of your arrests were for protesting sort of cancels it out."

"Half."

Sharon smiled. "Fine. Half were protesting, half were fighting."

"Better."

"Don't forget all those arrests for breaking and entering." Pepper's bemused voice came from behind them.

"That was only twice. And also I thought I locked the doors."

Pepper hummed. "Maybe you did and maybe you didn't. And maybe I took the key off your key-ring this morning because Best Friend ESP told me to."

Sharon laughed. "Or maybe I unlocked the door while you were off in thought because I saw her coming down the street." 

Steve groaned. "This is a conspiracy!"

Pepper slung her arm around Steve's neck. When he didn't duck out of her hold (he loved Pepper, a lot, but sometimes it reminded him of his height and sometimes he was sensitive about it), she dropped her grin and squeezed him closer. 

At that, he did wriggle away. "Neither of you are going to treat me carefully just because I'm in my feelings about meeting my Soulmate right now."

"Wouldn't dream of it." Sharon was busy packing up a blue-and-white box of their leftover pastries. "But I _will_ give you a box of leftovers to take home because I can't stomach any more this week." She passed Steve the box with a smile. "Now get out of my shop. We're closed."

Pepper let her arm drop and followed Steve out onto the street. 

"You're out of work early." 

"We have plans." Pepper confiscated the box of pastry from Steve as she spoke.

"We do?"

"Mmhmm. Now wait here." She paused at the corner despite the crosswalk signal light up for them to cross. "Our Uber will be here in a minute."

"Uber?"

"Like I said. Plans."

"Sounds devious."

"Thank god we have pastry, then."

Steve huffed a laugh but didn't ask any other questions as they slid into their Uber. At least, not until they turned one long-lost corner. And then another. And another.

"Pepper-"

"You need to tell her. It'll make us both feel better. And I think she'd like to know. Officially."

Steve couldn't really refute her point and so he merely nodded, waiting until they were standing outside the cemetery to speak again.

"Thanks, Pepper."

She held up the box of pastry as she tipped her head toward the entrance. "Tea and Saving the World with Sara Rogers."

Steve slung an arm around her waist and gave her a squeeze instead of responding, before taking a deep breath and stepping through the gates. Neither spoke as they made their way towards his mother's grave, and Pepper stayed quiet and a handful of steps behind as they approached, seating herself on a bench and opening the box of pastries. 

"Hey Ma. I uh, I met someone, I guess. I'll get to know who they are in..." Steve glanced at his wrist and loosed a frustrated huff at himself even as he did; he knew he'd covered his Clock up for his shift at the cafe. "...a week. I'm nervous and excited and I wish you were here, to see it. To meet them." 

Pepper only let his silence stretch on so long. "And _I_ think it's the handsome stranger Steve keeps talking about seeing weeks ago. Big blue eyes, just his type."

"I do not have a type!"

"Mm." Pepper took a bite out of an almond croissant rather than dignify Steve's exclamation with a response.

"I don't." 

She widened her eyes every so slightly. "Of course not."

"Ugh. Hand me a sugar brioche." 

Pepper delicately removed the sugar-raised (and coated) pastry from the box and held it towards him.

"Don't listen to her, Ma," he said around a bite, "she's not wrong but it won't be him. He stared at my tattoo like he'd never seen one before."

" _Or_ , he thought it was really well done and that you were handsome." Pepper smiled, smug. "Wish you were here to take my side, Mrs. Rogers." 

Steve flicked sugar-coated fingers in her direction and succeeded in flinging a few granules halfway to her. "She'd be tactfully neutral."

"Steve Rogers who are you kidding? She'd have a running list of potential Soulmates stuck to her fridge."

Steve narrowed his eyes at Pepper and stared as long as he could. "I know what you're doing."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Pepper."

"Steve."

"No."

"I don't know what you mean." She smiled, but it was only the barest twitch of her lips turning up at the corners. 

It was enough and Steve pointed a playfully accusing finger at her. "Oh my god you didn't. You did. Pepper."

"She would have wanted it!"

"I _take_ the photos, I'm not _in_ them."

"You are this time. I'm not making you do the pre-meeting Clock photos, just...ones together. You'll be glad, later. And so will your Soulmate. So." Pepper shifted to sit straighter and brushed nonexistent lint from her coat. " _You're welcome_."

Steve groaned and turned back to his mother's headstone. "I'll bring you a copy. And...them. To say hi." He whipped back around to Pepper so fast he winced. "What if-"

"If you're going to ask if they'll think it's weird that you visit your mother, they won't. At least, not for long. They're your Soulmate. They don't have to get it, they just have to understand it's what you need."

"Pep."

She shrugged. " _Maybe_ I've been doing a little reading in my free time." 

"Yeah?" 

"I'm just trying to be supportive. How'm I doing?"

"I don't deserve you."

"Sure you do. You support me too, you know."

"Mm." Steve turned back to his mother's headstone, and stared, silent. He knew he believed that she could hear him, could see what was going on. He still wanted her _there_ , to be sitting in her living room with Pepper talking about his Soulmate. Being excited and nervous and gently teased. 

He'd bring his Soulmate to the cemetery to see her instead. They'd understand, and if they didn't, Pepper was right: they would, eventually. He thought of the photo he saw in his Dreams, of all the people smiling and holding onto one another and being a family. Yes. They'd understand.

Steve set a hand on his mother's stone as he stood. "We'll be back to see you soon, Ma. With my Soulmate. I—I'm excited. Nervous. I hope you like them."

Pepper didn't stand until Steve offered her his hand. 

"You sure you're ready?"

"Yeah. Thanks, Pepper. I needed this."

She squeezed his hand, and turned towards the gates with him. "I'm glad it helped, Steve." 


	5. Ten Steps Back You're Still A Mystery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lovely, patient Bucky by @feisty-slytherin1027:
> 
> https://www.deviantart.com/feisty-slytherin1027/art/Bucky-waits-821655980

**{Bucky}**

[ONE HOUR REMAINING]

Bucky was _fucking late_. He'd gotten in a little late the night before from Indiana but nothing crazy but Monty had decided that tearing him away from Lucky deserved punishment of the highest order. Or his dog had eaten something gross and spent half the night getting sick. The only saving grace he had was that he'd texted his dog walker, Ned, to drop by earlier and keep an eye on Monty if he could. 

And it was Ned letting himself into Bucky's apartment that woke him.

" _Shit!_ " Bucky jumped out of bed and hurried into the shower. Most days he might skip it and shower in the evening. But he was meeting his Soulmate today. 

"Sorry Bucky, I-" Ned's expression was all worried confusion. To be fair, Bucky wasn't supposed to be there.

"Not you, you saved my ass; I slept through my alarm."

Ned's panic shifted directions, his hand waving towards the bathroom. "Go then! I've got Monty."

Bucky nodded and ducked into the bathroom, not waiting for the water to heat up to step under the spray, which was sort of a mistake. His Clock announced he had exactly 54 minutes and 17 seconds until he met his Soulmate. Enough time to get out the door and make his meeting _just_ in time. Ugh. He had been sort of hoping it _wouldn't_ be one of their new clients. He only spared a few moments to think wistfully of blue eyes and blonde hair before rushing out of the shower and to his closet.

He yanked on his navy blue suit and black button down and did what he could with his hair. Or he meant to. And then he dumped twice as much product as he meant to into his hand and he was headed for the bathroom again, washing it down the sink and being more careful the second time, combing his hands through his hair to gently tousle it, most staying smoothed back but a few choice strands falling in his face at which he poked until they fell _artfully_. 

He cast around for his laptop and messenger bag while simultaneously seeking out his keys. He hated not having a day in between vacation and work. 

Ned whistled. "Wow. Got a big date?"

Bucky held up his wrist, his Clock down to about 32 minutes. "Sort of."

Ned's excitement shot back up. "Holy crap! Bucky! That's crazy—oh my god you have to go right now."

"I have to find my keys." He was busy stuffing an apple, banana, and granola bar into the various pockets of his bag. 

"And your shoes." Ned pointed out helpfully. 

Bucky growled at himself and stalked back to his bedroom. He found his shoes—and his keys, which he'd apparently tossed on his bureau the night before. 

"Ok, I'm out. Thanks for keeping an eye on Monty."

Ned waved him away. "Sure thing. I'll be back at lunch and after school too. I'll text you if anything comes up."

Bucky gave him a wave, and rushed down the stairs. 

Halfway to Carter’s, he realized why his bag felt so light and had to turn around. He was pretty sure the universe was out to get him. His Clock was helpfully also counting down to a time five minutes into his meeting (which was now 21 minutes and 14 seconds away). He was definitely going to be late. He was definitely getting coffee anyway. 

Ned glanced up from playing with Monty as Bucky burst back into his apartment. "I thought-?" 

"Laptop!" Bucky was unable to hide the frantic note in his voice. He'd checked everywhere. If he'd left it in Indiana ( _why would he have done that?!_ ) he was screwed. He hurried towards his bedroom.

Ned cast around from where he sat with Monty on the floor. "Uh..."

It took another five minutes ( _five minutes!_ ) but they found it, wedged into one of Bucky's bags that it had no right being in but he'd obviously decided when packing to leave for New York again made the most sense. Past Bucky was a dick. 

By the time he got to Carter’s, he had 9 minutes and 3 seconds left on his Clock. He texted Sam that he was running late, along with a profuse apology. Sam's response buzzed through only a few moments later. 

_Professionally, I'm upset with you. Personally, I'm glad. Dickfaces McGee can sit and wait a little longer. Who signed this contract again?_

Granted, Bucky was later today than he usually was by about an hour. But _still._ The line was long and there were only 4 minutes flat left on his Clock when he stepped up to order. He cast his eyes to one side and noticed the blonde man making drinks. Bucky refused to look at his Clock again, swallowed his nerves, and turned his gaze to Sharon, ordering his usual. 

It wasn't often that he saw her exclusively working the front. Usually at this hour she was all over the place, helping her staff wherever she needed it.

"Long time no see." She smirked.

Bucky grinned. "Yeah. Trip out to see my family, but back to work today."

She handed the paper cup with his order scrawled on one side down into the line of others to be made. There were three ahead of his. He _did not_ look at his Clock. 

"Welcome back." Her smiled turned...different then. "I hope it's a good day."

Bucky huffed out a laugh more nervous than he'd wanted. "Me too." 

He moved along to wait by the espresso machine for his order to be called, watching the blonde man work with singular focus. The first order came up quick—iced coffee, black. The second was a little longer—chai tea, extra hot. The last before his order took more time, maybe as much as the other two combined, Bucky wasn't sure. He also wasn't sure if he was paying so much attention because he was late, or because of his Clock, or both. He _pretended_ he didn't know, anyway. He tugged at the sleeve covering his Clock but didn't look down. 

He didn't see or hear when the drink before his was called, but suddenly his was being handed over (hot coffee, black, two shots hazelnut syrup), the blonde calling his name. 

So it wouldn't be him. At least it wouldn't be one of the new clients either. With a sigh he stepped forward and reached for his cup, giving the blonde his best smile. Bucky couldn't help himself, and the man wouldn't know what he meant, if he even heard him, so he didn't feel too terrible when he said quietly to the universe: "I was hoping it would've been you."

And then Bucky froze. _Because the blonde man was saying the same thing, at the same time_ , and he felt something _shift_ in the air and goosebumps race over his skin. 

The blonde seemed to recover first, smiling like Bucky was the best thing in the world. "Hi Bucky. I'm Steve."

_Steve_. Bucky felt his cheeks ache from how wide he was smiling. He at least had the wherewithal to take his coffee from Steve and reach over with his free hand to take the place of the cup Steve had just been holding. 

"Hey. I'm—I'm _really_ glad it was you."

Steve squeezed his hand. "Me too. Um. I—my shift is over at noon today; I'm not sure what the rest of your day looks like..."

And then Bucky remembered that _he was so fucking late to a new client meeting_. "Oh shit. Oh my god. I—here." He grabbed for a cardboard sleeve and a pen from his bag and jotted his number down. "This is me. I am. _Crazy_ late."

"A very important date?" Steve ventured, a smile hovering on his lips. 

Bucky barked a laugh. "Yes. Oh my god, you're perfect. Lunch? Can I take you to lunch? I should be able to take the rest of the day after that but if not, at least lunch and then, um, maybe also dinner?"

Steve was blushing, red right to the tips of his ears and Bucky felt _giddy_. 

"Yeah, I'd like that. I'll be here. I'll see you?" Steve raised an eyebrow and tipped his head to one side, not letting Bucky's hand go, but noting to both of them the stack of cups with orders needing to be filled.

"Soon. Yes." Bucky gave Steve's hand one more tight squeeze, "I'm _so_ glad it was you, Steve," and then thought, _what the hell_ , and brushed a quick kiss over Steve's hand before scooping his coffee up again and rushing out the door.


	6. I Feel The Magic All Around You

**{Steve}**

[THREE HOURS REMAINING]

He had gotten up and dressed a little earlier than usual, so that Pepper could give him a final thumbs-up on the outfit they'd chosen. Black slacks (which were an easy choice, per Carter's staff dress code), and a red button-down. He showered and did his hair, and then let Pepper fuss over it again, sweeping it off to one side. 

"Text me, as soon as you can. I want to know everything." Pepper smiled wide and warm. 

"I will. I promise." Steve took a deep breath in and shook his hands out at his sides. "And I have my inhaler. Just in case."

"Don't you always have it?"

"I triple-checked this morning."

Pepper laughed. "Go to work."

He did, glancing at his Clock as he tugged on his jacket. He'd be right at the tail end of the morning rush when he met his Soulmate. At least the next three hours would fly by and he wouldn't have much time to agonize over them. 

***

He'd chosen not to use concealer on his Clock today, but he did wear his watch over it. He wanted to be able to sneak a glance at it, when he could, without getting the attention of every customer in line. 

By the end of the first hour of his shift, he'd glanced at his Clock four times and Sharon had caught him and smirked twice. T'Challa—who usually came in later in the week for a chai, who Steve had told about the day his Clock ran out—tapped his fingers over Steve's as he reached to take his drink. 

"Today's an important day. I had to come say hi." He answered Steve's unasked question. 

"Thanks." 

"I expect I'll see pictures?"

Steve's head snapped up from where he was prepping the next drink and groaned. "You talked to Pepper. Oh my god."

T'Challa smiled wide and mischievous. "Only because she has the best ideas." He took a sip of his drink, stepping to one side as Steve handed off the next drink he'd made. 

"This is a conspiracy! Fine, yes. You will."

"Good." T'Challa raised his cup some in goodbye, and headed for the door. 

By the end of the next hour, Steve had only had the chance to glance down once, and purely by accident, when he nearly dropped a milk cap. Forty-five minutes to go. 

And they took _forever_. Steve wasn't sure if it was his nerves or the Clock readjusting itself (he heard it could happen, but he'd not asked Sharon and he hadn't actually bothered to look it up to see if it was true—it would have only made him more anxious as the countdown continued). 

He had a spare minute to clean up the space around the espresso machine and glanced down once more. Five minutes. He looked up at the register—only two people in line and it wouldn't take five minutes to make their drinks. The bell over the door sounded again and three people stepped inside. 

One of them was the handsome brunette, looking harried and really, really good in his suit. And also second to last in line. Steve threw a glance back at his Clock. Four minutes. He recognized the other two people, vaguely, and felt his heart break only a little that the brunette likely wasn't his Soulmate. 

But the first person got an iced coffee, no milk no sugar, and Steve rushed it out as quickly as he could without looking like he was in a hurry. He wasn't sure he could beat a Clock and make it the person he wanted it to be. He wasn't sure he could will what he wanted into existence but he was going to try. The second was a chai, extra hot, and Steve couldn't rush that; knowing his luck he'd spill it and fuck everything up _and_ get burned. The last before the brunette's order was a mocha with extra syrup and extra whipped cream and Steve had to open a new milk and steam it and he saw two minutes left on his Clock. It wouldn't take that long to do the mocha, but the glance at the paper cup with the brunette's name— _Bucky_ —scrawled across it in Sharon's handwriting and felt his heart sink further. It wouldn't be him. It'd be the person after him, the man busy adjusting the sleeves of his jacket (maybe he was trying not to see his Clock, didn't want it to be Steve). 

He handed the mocha off unthinking and got to work on Bucky's order, black coffee with two shots of hazelnut syrup. He'd wanted it to be him. Wanted it more than he realized, as he pressed a lid carefully to the cup and held it up, calling Bucky's name. 

Bucky stepped forward and reached for the cup. The music was loud enough that Steve felt confident that Bucky wouldn't hear him, and so he mumbled out loud, just so he could know he said it and then quietly close the chapter on that hope, "I was hoping it would've been you."

Except it wasn't so quiet, because _Bucky was saying the same thing back at the same time holy shit_. Steve simultaneously felt like he needed his inhaler and could finally get a deep breath in for the first time. He shivered and it was enough to shake loose his voice. 

"Hi Bucky. I'm Steve."

The smile he got in return was blinding and then yes, Steve was sure he really could use his inhaler. Bucky took his coffee and then Steve's hand and gave it a squeeze instead of a shake. 

"Hey. I'm—I'm _really_ glad it was you."

Steve squeezed Bucky's hand back. "Me too. Um. I-" He hoped Bucky didn't think he was lame or desperate but here went nothing. "My shift is over at noon today; I'm not sure what the rest of your day looks like..."

Bucky's eyes went comically wide and his hold on Steve's hand turned into a tight grip. And then Bucky was rambling. "Oh shit. Oh my god. I—here." Bucky reached over and pulled a cardboard sleeve out of the stack to the right and rummaged for a pen in the pocket of his bag, producing a pen. He scrawled his number down hastily. "This is me. I am. _Crazy_ late."

Bucky looked overwhelmed and torn and Steve couldn't help himself. "For a very important date?" 

Bucky burst out laughing and Steve felt himself go warm. He willed himself not to blush. "Yes. Oh my god, you're perfect." Steve blushed. Steve blushed _so hard_. "Lunch? Can I take you to lunch? I should be able to take the rest of the day after that but if not, at least lunch and then, um, maybe also dinner?"

Steve was pretty sure Bucky hadn't taken a breath once through all of that. "Yeah, I'd like that. I'll be here. I'll see you?" He had a stack of cups waiting and though no one was complaining, he also didn't really want people to intrude on them if they realized what was happening or got impatient. 

"Soon. Yes." Bucky squeezed his hand again. "I'm _so_ glad it was you, Steve." He hesitated and then _lifted their hands and kissed Steve's coffee-and-flavored-syrup-coated knuckles like a gentleman_ and then he grabbed his coffee and headed for the door while Steve stood dumbstruck, still feeling the ghost of Bucky's lips on his hand.

***

Sharon bumped her hip into his as he wiped down the counter. It'd been slow since nine thirty and Bucky had come in an hour and a half before that. He glanced at his watch (now that his Clock ran out, it was slowly, slowly fading. Steve was familiar enough with photographing Soulmates that he knew most Clocks faded within 72 hours of running out). He only had half an hour until he could punch out. 

"So Bucky huh?"

Steve couldn't help but smile. "Yeah. How long has he been coming here?"

She shrugged. "A couple years? I think he's been in New York longer, but he didn't find us for a little while after."

Steve shook his head. "Wait, what? Two _years_? _How_ did I not meet him before this?"

"Beats me. Maybe you just...never took his order or filled orders when he came in, or maybe you weren't working when he came in? He's usually in here by like seven at the absolute latest. The two times he was here at weird hours were today and when you first met him a few weeks ago when it was crazy early." Sharon smiled, poking Steve with a stirrer. "Maybe it was fate."

"Ugh."

She scoffed. "Don't 'ugh' me! This is a _Soulmate_ , it's sort of fate by default. You're just a grump."

"Maybe."

"What if he's a hopeless romantic? He did kiss the back of your hand before he left and he's tall, dark, and handsome. He's right out of a movie, Steve."

Steve laughed, balling up a napkin and tossing it at her. "You're the worst! Sharon. Oh my god. If he is...if he is, then...I'll do romantic shit."

Sharon hummed. "Mm. 'Romantic shit'. You're already well on your way."

"I'm leaving!" He reached behind his neck to untie his apron. It was a little earlier than noon but not by much and Peter was always early. 

"You mean waiting for your Soulmate to pick you up for lunch?"

"Shit. Yeah, that." He had sort of forgotten. Not about Bucky being his Soulmate, but about, well, _having a date_. It felt...nice. He turned towards the employee bathroom instead of the cubby his bag was stowed in. If he had the time, he wanted to wash up as best he could. Bucky might like coffee enough to buy a cup every morning, but Steve doubted whether the smell of stale coffee and flavored syrup was as appealing. 

He had enough time left after washing his arms and face that he fussed over his hair to try and get it to behave now that he'd made it through the morning rush. It wasn't going to look as good as it did when he first left the house in the morning, but he'd at least tamed the flyaways.

And then he heard a low, rich voice say something, and Sharon's laugh and Steve nearly tripped over his feet rushing back out front. 

Bucky snapped his attention to Steve's face as he came through the swinging door, face lighting up. "Hey, Steve."

"Hey. I'm—I'm glad to see you."

"Me too. I was thinking, this new place opened up a few weeks back. Nhu Lan? I've heard good things and thought if you liked Vietnamese it could be fun to try it together." 

Bucky fidgeted with the strap of his bag the whole time and Steve had been pretty sure it wasn't possible to be more head over heels, but here he was. 

"I would love that." Steve stared and smiled at Bucky _like a creep_ for a few extra moments before he hurried into his coat and hat, pointedly ignoring Sharon's smirk. 

The walk was quiet and stilted and _shit_ Steve was kicking himself for not writing down conversation topics but this was his _Soulmate_ he didn't think he'd need them. 

Bucky shuffled his feet at the next crosswalk as they waited for the light to turn. "Sorry I'm complete shit at this. I'm so nervous and-" he cut himself off, but only for a moment, "and I've been thinking about you since I first saw you a couple of weeks ago and I know that sounds creepy but I can't stop talking now and I'm not making things better I should have stayed quiet, I'm sorry."

The longer Bucky spoke, the faster the words poured out and Steve could only catch Bucky's wrist to keep him from crossing the street with the rest of the waiting pedestrians. He tried not to laugh but it bubbled up out of him in relief. 

"Bucky, that's not creepy. Not to me. I've been thinking about you, too, and I've also sort of been beating myself up in my head this whole time for not having taken notes to pull from for conversation. I'm so nervous and you're my _Soulmate_ and I don't want to fuck this up."

Bucky laughed. And kept laughing and Steve let his laughter bubble up out of him again. Bucky paused to catch a breath and wipe one eye, throwing a blinding smile Steve's way.

"Change of plans?"

Steve's heart sunk, but only a little. He really had wanted to try that restaurant. "What's that?"

"Want to grab some hot cocoa at L.A. Burdick's and walk through the park? Then we can grab dinner at Nhu Lan. I think the last thing we need is to feel like other people are listening when we sit down to talk for the first time."

Steve loosed a sigh of relief. Bucky really, really _was_ his Soulmate. "That sounds perfect. Please."

Bucky led them down another block before they reached Burdick's, and it was almost four hours later when they realized they'd been hungry for the past two. 


	7. You Became More Than Just A Mystery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steve's Dream of Bucky's room by @feisty-slytherin1027: 
> 
> https://www.deviantart.com/feisty-slytherin1027/art/Buckys-Room-821656263

**{Bucky}**

Bucky liked to think he knew more about Soulmates than most people, thanks to his sister. She had in no way prepared him for what this felt like. What it already was to him. They'd gotten hot cocoa and wandered through the park and adjacent neighborhoods for _hours._ They talked the entire time. And laughed, and at some point had started holding hands and Bucky wasn't sure who initiated it, but he knew he wasn't going to be the one to stop it. 

Steve was an only child raised by a single mother who'd died some years back and his family was completely chosen. Bucky was still processing the enormity of that when Steve gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

"It's a little different from what you're used to, huh?"

Bucky thought of his big, loud, biological and chosen family and shrugged. "Maybe." Wait. "Hey, how did you know?"

"My first Dream, it was you and all your friends and family together and you looked so happy and...content."

Bucky tugged gently on Steve's hand and couldn't help the smile that crossed his face when Steve chose to follow the pull and step into Bucky's space. "Steve. You're a part of that now. Or you will be, officially, once you come visit the family with me and my mother nearly breaks your ribs hugging you."

"That sounds..." Steve stretched his shoulders back and they stayed farther from his ears than they'd been. "That sounds really, really nice, Buck. I know you said they live in Indiana, so it might have to wait a little but, um, I was thinking that maybe sometime before that, we could go...visit my mum."

"Do you think she'd mind if we popped by now?" Bucky held up his phone in his free hand. "There's still a couple hours left until the cemetery closes, and we could have dinner after she's officially met me and given her blessing."

Bucky wasn't sure what Steve was doing with his face, but it amounted to Steve trying and failing to keep from crying and he stepped closer into Bucky's space to hug him tight. Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve in return, hugging him close. 

"You made me cry, you jerk."

Bucky huffed out a laugh, squeezing Steve in his arms and holding on. "Sorry."

Steve shrugged as best he could within Bucky's hold. "They're happy tears."

"You made me feel guilty, you punk."

"Sorry."

Bucky couldn't help himself and he nearly giggled his way through his: "You are not."

Steve's muffled laugh made something in Bucky's stomach flutter. "A little?"

Bucky leaned back only far enough to search Steve's face. "A little. Yeah right." With a gentle shake and a last squeeze, Bucky let Steve step away. "C'mon. Time to introduce me to the woman who fit you and your attitude in the same building."

***

Sarah Rogers' plot was situated off to one end of the cemetery, with a beautiful tree overhanging a nearby bench. Steve had visited recently, given how tidy the space around her headstone looked and the autumn wreath that leaned against the base. 

Bucky hung back by the bench as they approached, letting Steve step forward alone. After a few moments in which Steve said something that Bucky couldn't quite hear, Steve waved him over. 

"Hi, Mrs. Rogers." 

Steve elbowed Bucky. 

"Hi, Sarah." 

Steve beamed. 

"I'm Bucky. Bucky Barnes. I'm, uh, from Indiana and Steve is my Soulmate and...I'm so happy." He wasn't sure what to say, but he heard himself keep going, about his family and himself and how excited he was to have met Steve. For Steve to be his Soulmate. 

He stopped when he felt Steve lean against him. Bucky wasn't sure how long he'd been talking. 

"Buck." Steve's voice sounded a little strained. When he glanced at Steve, Bucky's suspicion was confirmed; Steve's eyes were brimming but he'd not cried. 

He wound an arm around Steve and gave him a squeeze "Take out?" 

"Yeah." Steve sniffed. "My place?"

"Yeah." 

Neither of them moved for several more minutes, and Bucky stood enjoying the feeling of Steve next to him, and a strange sort of calm at having done something to make his Soulmate happy. 

***

When they arrived back at Steve's place, his roommate was already home. Steve had described her—Pepper—as kind and beautiful and unstoppable. Bucky couldn't say he disagreed on-sight: she was willowy with strawberry blonde hair and freckles and when she saw them enter, take-out in hand and Steve's eyes still red-rimmed, her smile tightened and her eyes narrowed. Still, she held out her hand to Bucky and said:

"Hi. I'm Pepper. You must be Steve's Soulmate." In a way that wasn't unkind, but did demand explanation. 

He hurried to shake her hand. "Hi, I'm Bucky. Bucky Barnes. Uh, yes, I'm Steve's Soulmate. Uh, we-"

"We went to see Ma, Pep." Steve cut in. 

Bucky knew Steve and Pepper were close; Steve had told him as much earlier in the day. It was entirely different to see her whole demeanor change, her shoulders loosen and her smile soften. 

"You did?"

"Yeah. He's—I'm going to meet his family, at some point, but we were able to go see Ma this afternoon."

Pepper turned her attention back to Bucky, carefully searching his face for several long moments before her smile broadened. "You really are his Soulmate." She hummed.

"Fortunately." 

Pepper threw her gaze to Steve and signed to him something Bucky didn't understand.

"Rude." Steve blushed anyway. 

Pepper huffed, looking to Bucky again. "I told him you were cute."

Bucky laughed. "Not rude. Would you keep signing, and talk while you sign? I want to learn."

Pepper raised an eyebrow at Steve and signed while she spoke. "Yeah. I _definitely_ like him. He's cute, he met your mom right away, and-"

"He's my Soulmate." Steve signed and said. 

"He's taking you to Indiana as soon as he can." Bucky cut in. "But in the meantime, maybe we could Skype or FaceTime with my family so they can meet you?"

Steve grinned, nodding towards his bedroom. "We can do that this evening, if you want. My laptop is just in there."

Bucky glanced to Pepper. "And you too. You're..." he gestured helplessly, unable to come up with the words for what Steve had described her meaning to him. "You're Pepper."

Bucky got the impression that Pepper didn't often shed tears in front of near-strangers, but she wiped an eye quickly with a pinky. "Yeah. Yes."

Steve was staring at Bucky like he'd grown another head and so he rushed to say _something_ if neither Steve nor Pepper was going to. "My sister might be a giant pain, by the way, I know I mentioned-"

And Bucky didn't get to finish his sentence. Because Steve had leaned over and up into Bucky's space and kissed him. Steve was leaning away, even, as Bucky realized what was happening and Bucky stopped him from pulling away, reeling him back in for another, less chaste, kiss. 

Kissing your Soulmate was really, really great, and Bucky was a little upset that Becca hadn't mentioned anything about it. Maybe none of her study participants had ever said something, but those ridiculous Hallmark movies were right. Bucky had tingles down his spine and sparks under his skin and could feel laughter bubbling up like fizz from deep inside him and he had an errant thought about what sappy shit that was but he dismissed it in favor of kissing Steve again. 

When they broke apart, Bucky discovered Pepper had quietly retreated to the kitchen to poke around cabinets and the fridge. 

"We need to do more of that. Like, _way more_." Steve sounded a little breathless.

"No complaints here." Bucky stole another quick kiss. "Can I take you out on another date? Tomorrow?"

Steve laughed. "Yeah. Can I meet your family now?"

Bucky grinned entirely too wide for his face and nodded. "Go get your laptop."


	8. Sweet Temptation Rush All Over Me

**{Steve}**

Bucky had asked him on a second date and their first hadn't even ended yet. He didn't think. They hadn't gone their separate ways yet, anyway. He'd worry semantics later with Pepper. For the time being, he grabbed his laptop and hurried to return to the living room. Bucky had met his Ma. Had been the one to suggest it be the same day they met. He'd invited Pepper to meet his parents because Steve had said Pepper was important. 

Steve felt like his insides were made of Pop Rocks or Fanta or some other ridiculous bullshit. Bucky was his Soulmate and he was welcoming Steve's whole life with open arms and was eager to be a part of Steve's life. He wanted to learn to _sign_ and Steve was pretty sure he nearly cried, except that Pepper had made him blush on purpose (so he wouldn't cry). 

And he was standing in his room grinning like an idiot with his laptop clutched in his arms while Bucky waited in the next room so he hurried back out. 

"Here." He booted the machine up as he settled in next to Bucky and waved Pepper over with his free hand. 

In short order, Bucky had logged into Skype and the three of them had situated themselves well enough and were waiting for someone on Bucky's end to answer the call.

A woman with dark, curly hair and blue eyes answered, and immediately teared up. "Hi, honey."

"Hey Mum. This is Steve, my Soulmate." Bucky squeezed Steve with the arm around his shoulders. Steve waved. "And this is Pepper, his family." 

Pepper waved too. Steve felt his heart constrict. 

"Welcome to the family, you two, I'm Winifred." Bucky's mom turned her head and shouted for _'everyone'_. Steve was a little nervous; he remembered the number of people in the photo he'd seen in his Dream. It was just as well. It gave him time to wipe an eye. 

In short order, _everyone_ was assembled as well as possible around the camera on Winifred's end, and Bucky was introducing them as his father, sister, and two others that Bucky had told him about earlier in the day, Clint and Kate. They were smiling and talking over each other and Steve couldn't keep up. He couldn't keep up and he was feeling overwhelmed and he didn't know what to listen to and this might be going terribly two seconds in and he hoped he wasn't looking panicked and-

Bucky held up a hand, laughing. "Guys. C'mon. One at a time." 

And Bucky, clearly unknowingly, had stopped the deluge of noise. Steve couldn't help but lean into his side some and Bucky squeezed his shoulders. 

Becca only gave them a moment before piping up again, a wide, cheeky smile on her face. "So how big a letdown for you was my brother?"

Steve laughed. " _Huge_. Who drinks their coffee anything but black?"

Clint raised his oversize mug, which Steve assumed had coffee in it, and exclaimed. "We're keeping him!"

Bucky squawked and interjected and then Steve was laughing again and talking over him. About how they met and the day and Winifred went a little misty-eyed when he told her about visiting Steve's mum and yeah, ok, so did Steve. 

"Well I know it's a bit late to change around holiday plans, but we'd love to have all three of you here for any festivities."

Out of the corner of his eye, Steve saw Bucky tilt his head as he asked "Three?"

"Well I can't very well ask you to celebrate your first Christmas and New Year's away from your Soulmate."

Steve turned to Pepper and had a conversation that was all eyebrows and lip-quirks. It lasted all of three seconds, really, before he was turning to face the camera again. "Mrs. Barnes?"

"She's not here. Winnie or Mom are, though." Winifred sniffed and _Steve_ sniffed because he was _almost crying_ because she meant it and he had the chance to have _a mother_ again. 

"Ma." Bucky squeezed Steve, and held it. Steve ignored the thought that maybe Bucky's voice sounded a little rough. He'd spoken one syllable and Steve didn't know Bucky well enough yet to know for sure. 

Steve cut in before Winnie could fuss or he could think further about the way Bucky'd just sounded. "Winnie. Pepper and I would love to join Bucky and all of you for the holidays this year."

She beamed. So did everyone on the other end of the line. Bucky knocked his knee against Steve's. 


	9. Passion, Desire So Intense

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bucky's Dream of Steve's room by @feisty-slytherin1027:
> 
> https://www.deviantart.com/feisty-slytherin1027/art/Steves-Room-821656105

**{Bucky}**

Bucky thought he was going to burst. Steve had agreed to spend the holidays with his family. His loud, huge, crazy family and Steve had accepted like it was no big deal, like it didn't take more than a moment's thought. His mom wanted Steve to call her Mom, if he was comfortable. Steve was willing to uproot his traditions with Pepper and bring them both to Indiana for the holidays and Bucky was pretty sure there wasn't a luckier guy out there. 

When they finally ended their Skype call, Bucky was _completely_ sure there wasn't a luckier guy out there. Steve had sat on the phone with him and his family for the next _hour_ , talking and laughing and answering questions that _Becca seriously you're being so nosy_ , and still seeming to want Bucky after all the embarrassing stories his parents managed to share in only an hour. And after all the jokes Clint and Kate traded with him. Steve was whip-smart and sarcastic and fit in perfect with his family and Bucky couldn't wait more than a moment after they'd ended the call to turn to Steve and say: "Can I kiss you?"

Steve smiled and nodded, already leaning in and closing his eyes. 

  
Bucky really did like all those Hallmark Soulmate movies. He also thought they were a little *too* sappy sometimes. He was willing to take it all back though because that sappy shit about *feeling right* and *sparks* and general nonsense was true. Or it felt like it for him. Enough so that before he knew what he was doing he'd brought a hand up to cup the back of Steve's head and was deepening the kiss. 

  
There was the sound of movement behind them—Pepper leaving the room, he thought—and Steve making a soft sound and shifting his way into Bucky’s lap to better wind his arms around Bucky.  
  
  



	10. Tell Me It's Madness, I Barely Know You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this is it! I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I felt like I needed something fluffy after the kick in the teeth 2019 turned out to be. 
> 
> Be safe, be well, and thanks for reading!

**{Steve}**

Steve didn't know how long they sat on the couch (how long he sat on *Bucky* on the couch—and for once he was glad for his size which, what?) and made out. Long enough that Pepper had left the apartment a while back, likely for Tony's. He glanced at the clock to try and make sense of how long it had really been. 

  
And then blushed and laughed and leaned into Bucky. Again. They'd called Bucky’s parents at like 8:30. It was almost 11, now. 

  
"What?"

  
Oh. Yeah. Steve could definitely get used to hearing Bucky’s voice sound all low and rough like that. Yes. This Soulmate thing was going to be great.

  
  
"It's been like two hours."

  
  
"Holy shit." Bucky laughed, smile wide and eyes bright. He grew serious after a few moments, leaning in to brush his lips against Steve's briefly. "I wasn't sure about this whole Soulmate thing you know. I was so nervous. And then it was you and." He shook his head and leaned in again. Steve really, really liked this. "And I'm so, so happy. I know it's new. Brand new. But-"

  
  
Steve cut him off with another quick kiss. He'd never been super-affectionate but he couldn't help himself. All afternoon they'd been bumping shoulders and holding hands and generally being in each other's pockets. 

  
"Me too, Buck. It's new and we'll have ups and downs and it'll be ok. I was scared too. And it feels like one of those stupid movies but-"

  
  
"Yes!" Bucky laughed.

  
  
"-but me too. Yeah. Yes. It's you and I can't stop smiling and we'll figure it out together."

  
  
Bucky hummed in agreement.

  
  
"But right now, I think we should get some sleep. And...maybe see what else is way better with your Soulmate?"

  
  
A wide, mischievous grin lit Bucky’s face and reached deep into his eyes. "Hell yes."

  
  
Steve's laugh bubbled up out of his chest and he pulled Bucky up off the couch and led him down the hall, both of them giddy and laughing and Steve couldn't remember the last time he'd been that happy. Since before his Ma died, he thought. And he was going to *keep* feeling that happy, even through the difficult shit. He'd had his friends and Pepper and now he had Bucky and his family and-

  
  
Yeah. Yeah this Soulmate thing was pretty perfect. 


End file.
